


Tease

by Anonymous



Category: Darkwing Duck (Cartoon 1991), Disney Duck Universe, DuckTales (Cartoon 2017)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Appreciation, Based on a Tumblr Post, Clothing Kink, Domestic Bliss, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Fluffy Ending, Grinding, Loud Sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Size Difference, Spanking, Teasing, drakepad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:06:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24363277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Launchpad's tired after a long day, but Drake's not done with him yet.WARNING: This is porn, plain and simple. As such, please be aware that this fic contains highly explicit descriptions of sexual activity.
Relationships: Drake Mallard/Launchpad McQuack
Comments: 13
Kudos: 87
Collections: Anonymous





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> Based on something I read somewhere—tumblr, maybe? about how Drake would definitely be the kind of guy who would all-out grind his ass on his boyfriend and then feign ignorance about how he was being a _total_ tease. I agree, so I wrote a fic about it.
> 
> Characterizations are based on the '91 cartoon, but instead of the pancake butt he usually has, I gave Drake a fat ass here, mostly to have LP appreciate and be utterly tortured by it.

_Hoo boy,_ Launchpad sighed. It had been a long day. There had been a whole mess of repairs to do on the Thunderquack, and the plane _still_ wasn’t in tip-top condition yet. On their last mission, Darkwing and Launchpad had kind of gotten into a tight spot and weirdly enough, crashing was what helped them escape. But the old girl had been wrecked completely, so it would be a bit before she’d be back in working order. Although he had gotten quite a lot done today, he’d still have to work on her some more tomorrow, and probably the next day too, in order to have the plane ready again for his hero. 

It was now late and Launchpad was just now finishing up getting ready for bed. He clicked off the light in the bathroom, ready to hit the hay. In the shadows of the room, he could hear Drake, who was already in bed, breathing softly and evenly. He was probably about to fall asleep, if he wasn’t asleep already. Launchpad tiptoed around to his side of the bed, and slipping between the sheets, sank comfortably onto his side. 

“Good night, DW,” he whispered, but he wasn’t sure if Drake was still awake to hear it. He scooted toward the center of the bed and curled up close behind his partner so that Drake, who was also on his side, was now little spoon to his big spoon. It was so comforting to be able to snuggle like this after such an exhausting day. 

Apparently not yet asleep, Drake shifted a little in front of him and his tail, sticking out the back of that long nightshirt he often wore to sleep, tickled against the front of Launchpad's boxer shorts. Launchpad was _juuust_ about to fall asleep, but his eyes fluttered open at the flickering sensation. Not thinking anything of it, he yawned and squeezed DW to his chest a little tighter, and peacefully started to drift off again. 

Drake then squirmed around a bit more, and now his tail feathers flattened against Launchpad’s lower abdomen, while his bottom, covered by his long, silky soft sleep shirt, squished up flirtatiously against Launchpad’s crotch. 

His eyes flying open, Launchpad tried to suppress a grunt. _What in the hell…?_

_Hmm. DW’s ass has gotten a little chubbier lately_ , he thought, grinning a little with lecherous satisfaction. _Better not tell him that though, ‘cause he’d surely get all mad and embarrassed._ Mmm, never mind now adorable and hot Launchpad found it. It was all soft and curvy and thanks to Drake being restless and squirmy with a penchant for crawling all over him, half the time it was in his face or on his lap. And of course, like a damn tease, DW never wore pants either. In other words, it was fucking distracting as hell. Like right now, when he was just trying to sleep. But feeling that plumpness suddenly flush against his groin lit a spark in his belly, and he felt his nether regions start to heat up.

But Drake didn't move for several long minutes, so Launchpad figured he had finally settled to sleep, and he started to fade away himself. But of course, _right_ as he was about to drift off, there was another long, torturous wiggle, soft ass cheeks rubbing right on his fly, and he felt a familiar hot twitching between his legs, jolting him awake once again.

_God dammit._ “Mmmmfffff,” Launchpad groaned quietly as he felt his boxers tighten, yet _again._

“D-drake?” He whispered indignantly to the smaller duck in his arms. “What the hell are ya doin’?” 

“I’m just trying to get _comfortable,_ LP,” Drake said, sounding irritated. 

_As if he should be the one to get all mad,_ Launchpad thought with a slight scowl. _The one who should be complainin’ is me. Little tease._

Drake didn’t move again for a while, thank God, so thinking his restless partner had _finally_ found a comfortable position, Launchpad just kept holding him, taking in the faint scent of his cologne and the familiar, clean smell of their laundry detergent, likely coming from the sheets or Drake’s little nightshirt. His eyelids were drooping and Drake’s even breathing was lulling him to sleep. 

Then—he _really_ should have expected it—there was yet _another_ shift of Drake’s hips, undulating forward this time, and then another rough, sultry rub back against Launchpad’s groin, and infuriatingly, Launchpad found himself rudely yanked from Dreamland once more. In that short interval Drake's sleep shirt had ridden up—no, _scratch that:_ the little flirt had most certainly pulled it up _on purpose_ —so now it was just his round, bare ass squished snugly against Launchpad’s tingling crotch. 

“Okay, _now_ yer just playin’ games, DW,” Launchpad complained, despite the fact that the heat pooling in his groin proved at least THAT part of him was enjoying DW’s teasing quite a bit. 

“Hush, LP, I’m trying to get some shut eye,” Drake retorted. But far from sleeping, let alone settling down in the least, he wiggled his plush rear again, squeezing his ass muscles, and after a beat, was now unabashedly grinding his bottom on the front of Launchpad’s boxers. Perhaps needless to say, by this point Launchpad felt a little lightheaded because all the blood had rushed to his crotch, and he was now hard as a rock.

_Well, all thoughts of sleepin’ are definitely out the window_ _NOW,_ he thought. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep when DW had gotten him _like THIS_.

But apparently, Drake wasn't done playing his flirtatious, little hot-n-cold game yet, because almost as soon as he started he stopped his torturous grinding, and was now very sweetly settled into Launchpad's embrace. 

_Oh no, yer not foolin' me with that again._ Launchpad knew the sweet and peaceful act was all bullshit, and simply waited for him to resume his delicious rolling of those hips once more. 

Sure enough, after a minute or two, Drake started up again, arching his back so his ass, curving upward, was pressing even more insistently against Launchpad's poor, tortured groin. Launchpad could feel him start to move, and knew the little tease was planning on just going to town on his throbbing crotch. 

Before Drake could manage to get two good grinds out of it though, Launchpad, who was fed up with DW's shenanigans, roughly pulled him even closer so he could murmur brusquely in his ear. 

"Alright DW, seems like ya ain't really in the mood to do any sleepin'. So maybe ya had somethin' else in mind?" Feeling Drake shiver from head to toe at his words, Launchpad then sharply yanked his boxers down to the middle of his thighs, and pressed his "somethin' else" tightly up under DW’s fluffy tail, where the feathers naturally parted and exposed a very sensitive, private place. 

Drake's breath hitched loudly at the naughty contact, and he let out an excited gasp. “Ooohh…” he breathed. Launchpad’s face burned at the sultry sound of his voice, and the heat from his face spread all the way down to the tip of his dick.

“Mm-hmm, I just don't think yer as tired as ya've been pretendin', DW…” Launchpad whispered gruffly in his ear.

“I don't know what you're talking about, LP,” he said snippily, still pretending he was innocent. “It's bedtime, if you haven't noticed, so we need to sleep. _GOOD NIGHT_ , LP.” Yet even as he was sassing him and making up all these bullshit excuses, his voice was husky and dark, and he was continuously rubbing and sliding his ass up and down Launchpad’s naked and by now, very interested cock.

“Oh, I'll give you a ‘good night’ all right,” Launchpad muttered, and he reached down between them and grasped at that teasing little bottom, giving it a few rough squeezes. He then tugged at the base of DW’s tail, which earned him several dirty moans. But when he gave that naughty, wiggly little heart-shaped rear a couple spanks, Drake really began to wail. 

“Ohhhh, God, LP..." He panted loudly in excitement, breath hitching. Maybe it was related to his whole ego thing, but for some reason he always came a little undone whenever Launchpad gave his naughty rear a few well-deserved swats. As if in retaliation, Drake then squeezed his ass cheeks together, causing Launchpad to grit his teeth at how good it felt to have his cock smushed so luxuriously between those fat ass cheeks, even if he wasn't inside him. _Yet._

“Sounds like ya might be wantin' some of this, DW,” Launchpad murmured, pressing the slick, dripping tip of his cock up so it kissed Drake’s asshole, threatening to slip right on inside, and DW just moaned wantonly, sounding hungry to get down to business as fast as possible.

“Ahem, mmm, well,” he then said, perhaps a little embarrassed at squealing like that, and quickly composed himself. “I may have heard that sex before bed _caaaaan_ help you sleep better.” And with that there was yet another naughty wiggle of those hips, and Launchpad felt his mind fogging over with lust. Holy damn, DW sure knew how to drive a guy up the wall.

“Well, yer not quite ready, are ya?” Launchpad pushed a little against DW’s tight hole, which despite the smaller duck’s eager moans and hums, refused to grant easy passage. So, after a quick rummage through their nightstand drawer, Launchpad grabbed the almost empty lube bottle—they really went through the stuff—and generously slicked DW’s entrance and two of his fingers. Slowly he worked him open, and by the time he had stretched him as good as he could manage, DW was practically riding his fingers, lustily groaning as he speared himself over and over on Launchpad’s digits.

Launchpad couldn't help but tease him a little, whispering against DW's flushed neck. “Damn, somebody's rarin’ to go, huh?” But Launchpad, his arousal throbbing and tingling hotly in anticipation, would have been lying if he said he wasn’t chomping at the bit to get down and dirty too.

“Oh, give it to me _goood,_ LP,” DW panted, and feeling himself blush, Launchpad removed his slicked fingers and gently pushed Drake from his side up onto his hands and knees, a position more conducive for giving him that good fucking he was whining for. Pulling his boxers further down past his knees, he positioned himself behind Drake. With a quick motion he coated his shaft with a healthy dollop of lube and slipped the tip into DW’s relaxed entrance. He and DW both sighed with pleasure at the contact, and Launchpad sunk in deeper. And deeper, and even _deeper._

_God damn, he’s still tight_ , Launchpad thought, carefully sinking inside, inch by girthy inch, until he had completely bottomed out, his lower abdomen now being tickled by DW’s cute, fluffy little tail.

“Urggghhh,” DW groaned as Launchpad pressed inside, and now that Launchpad had finally buried his cock to the hilt, he could feel Drake’s muscles tensing up, which was understandable since taking an assful of his cock was probably more than a little uncomfortable. Launchpad tenderly caressed his back and narrow shoulders, resisting the strong temptation to give in to his instincts and just start wildly thrusting in and out of DW’s wet heat. Eventually Drake slowly started moving back and forth on his own, the muscles inside starting to relax enough to permit more aggressive treatment. When he seemed to get accustomed to Launchpad’s size, he finally shot him a hot glare over his shoulder. Even in the dim light, Launchpad could see the haughty, flinty look in his eyes.

“Gimme a reminder of how good you fuck,” he growled, his voice so deep and silky with lust he almost sounded like Negaduck. Icy cold chills ran down LP's spine at how dangerous and goddamn sexy he sounded—which gave him pause ‘cause holy _SHIT_ , did that mean he thought Negaduck was sexy too? _Uh oh_ —but pushing that somewhat disturbing thought aside, he eagerly started to rhythmically pump in and out as DW moaned softly below him.

“Mmm, _faster,_ LP,” he purred between thrusts. “Just fucking _wreck_ me.” As soon as he heard those breathy words, Launchpad couldn't resist doing exactly what DW wanted. The springs on their bed were now squeaking and sometimes outright groaning under their energetic movement, becoming louder and louder as Launchpad roughly pounded Drake’s pert little ass, and the sound of their bed squealing under them was only made dirtier by DW’s high-pitched whines and yelps accompanying the squelching wet slapping sounds their fucking was making.

“Oh _fuuuck,”_ Drake cried, shuddering as Launchpad roughly pumped in and out of him with abandon. Launchpad was gripping DW tightly around his waist, where his soft, itty-bitty nightshirt was pushed up in bunches to allow easy access while Launchpad gave him a good, sound fucking. Though hard to see clearly in the dim light, the folds of the oversized shirt hung down under DW’s belly and looked almost like a skirt as it swayed to their rhythm. 

Launchpad hummed appreciatively at the sight. It always made him hot when DW would keep some of his clothing on while they made love. Some of the hottest sex they’d had was when Drake was in his Darkwing outfit, slightly disheveled, with his coat buttons partially undone while Launchpad undid _him_ from the inside out. Who knew how many times he'd gotten under that cape after the successful end to a case, with DW bouncing on his lap in the Thunderquack, with his hero just wailing and whining in his ear...

But _damn,_ then again, don’t get him started on how hot he thought DW was in that frilly apron he wore when doing housework. It was a completely different aesthetic than DW’s hero gear, but just seeing him wear that adorable, flirty, impossibly itty-bitty garment drove him absolutely crazy. It’d be easier to list the places in their house they _hadn't_ fucked in while he was wearing that particular little ensemble. It had gotten to the point where if DW was wearing it, there was a kind of unspoken understanding between them that Launchpad was going to _destroy_ that ass sometime later that day, if not immediately. If Gosalyn was outside playing with Honker, they could sometimes sneak upstairs and get in a good hot fuck in the afternoon, but that was risky. She'd nearly walked in on them a few times. But, if she was at school, well, Drake would basically be a sitting duck then, because Launchpad wouldn’t even _try_ to resist his urges and would just tackle him on sight. But of course, DW being DW, he just loved to torture him, so lately the little minx had relegated most of his cleaning to weekends, where Launchpad would be forced to wait _excruciatingly_ long hours to pounce on him until well after their daughter had been safely put to bed. 

DW’s soft, throaty cries below him interrupted Launchpad’s reveries, and Launchpad gripped DW’s slender waist tighter as he picked up the pace. Looking down, for a few moments he just watched those chubby cheeks bouncing as he plunged over and over between them, the sight of which was making his face just as hot as the tip of his wet, buried cock. 

_Aw **shiiit,**_ he thought, reveling in how good this felt. He really needed to make DW come soon, because he was getting dangerously close himself and he wanted to stay good and hard until Drake was finished. He started aiming his thrusts carefully, doing his best to rub DW’s prostate as much as possible. It seemed like he was hitting it pretty regularly, because DW started to yelp in pleasure, and his hand had moved between his thighs, jerking himself in time with Launchpad’s pointed thrusting. _Time for the cherry on top, so to speak,_ Launchpad thought darkly, gazing at DW’s unsuspecting ass cheeks. Still thrusting, he then gave the right cheek a good hard slap, and as he expected, he felt DW’s entire body shudder violently in surprise and intense, shivering pleasure.

“Ohhhh, _fuck!!_ ” He shrieked, voice melting with unadulterated lust. “D-damn it, LP, m-more!!” He demanded, sounding so whiny and needy it was driving Launchpad _insane_ with desire.

And so, Launchpad spanked that ass good as he fucked it, with DW masturbating all the while, and seemingly within mere seconds Drake was almost _sobbing_ as he came. 

“Oh G-God, _Launchpaaad,"_ he wailed, writhing as the ripples of his orgasm rocked his little body as he pumped out his desire into his fisted hand. Launchpad paused his thrusting a moment, to give his partner a break, since he noticed that DW’s knees were wildly shaking with the aftershocks. When Drake eventually recovered, he shot Launchpad a piercing stare over his shoulder, a naughty glint in his eyes.

“What are you waiting for, LP? I seem to remember _somebody_ hasn’t come yet,” he murmured teasingly, and never breaking eye contact, proceeded to _slooowwly_ and tantalizingly slide his ass back all the way onto Launchpad’s shaft, so that he was fully seated in him again. Just watching Drake shoot that hot, sultry glare at him, just oozing sexiness as he took all of his cock made Launchpad flush deeply and he felt his heart race. _God damn DW was naughty._

He answered Drake’s haughty challenge, though, when he grasped roughly at his rear, fingers raking the soft flesh. “Oh, you ain’t ready for this, DW,” he growled, and he felt Drake shudder in excitement.

But DW being who he was, even if he was a quivering mess, he’d still act all defiant. “Oh yeah? Why don't you go ahead and _prove_ it?” His ass was wiggling again, his cute fluffy tail curling against Launchpad’s belly, just like how this whole romp had started. 

_What a sassy little bitch._ _He’d show him, alright_. “Don't say I didn't warn ya,” Launchpad murmured, and although DW made a scoffing noise, he gave him a very soft look over his shoulder that made Launchpad smile back in adoration. 

He slowly pulled back, so far to the point his cock was about to slip out, then in an instant roughly slammed all the way in again, and repeated this torturous process over and over, causing DW to lustily cry out and thrash around below him. He then leaned forward, pushing Drake and himself into a more horizontal position. Holding himself up somewhat like a one-armed push up, he clasped DW tightly across the chest with his other arm, squeezing him so close he couldn't resist being a little romantic, pressing a few kisses to the sides of his face. Drake hummed happily at his kisses, and turning, returned a few himself. 

He could feel DW's heartbeat beneath the folds of his bunched-up shirt, which quickened when Launchpad then proceeded to roll his hips against the soft press of Drake's ass and pump in and out of his hole faster and faster. Feeling the sweat roll down his back, Launchpad realized he was getting a little bit of a workout tonight—not that he minded _this_ kind—since he could feel his abs working and ass muscles clenching as his thrusts intensified, and he felt the fronts of his thighs just stinging as they smacked roughly against DW's rear. 

"Unnngghhh," Drake moaned beneath him, and his wails got louder the faster and rougher Launchpad went. Their bed was just squealing too, squeaking up a storm, matching the thunderous, stormy way he was rolling hard into Drake's little ass.

Soon he was pumping so insanely hard and fast he could barely tell that he was even thrusting at all—he seemed constantly buried in that perfect wet heat, but based on the fast, rhythmic, wet gushing sounds, the frenzied slaps of skin on skin, and the loud hollering of his partner and the bed below them, it was clear he was definitely still moving, fucking in and out just as hard and fast as he'd thought. The sensations were starting to be too intense, and feeling the familiar beginnings of an orgasm, he pulled them both back into a more traditional doggy style position, and after a few more seconds of rapid-fire thrusting, he finally finished wrecking that ass, groaning as he came hard and pumped hot spurts of cum deep inside that slick heat. 

"Ohhh shit," Drake cried softly underneath him as Launchpad rolled his hips slower and slower, the intense waves of pleasure slowly fading, his cock softening. He relaxed his iron grip on DW's little waist, and sighed with pleasure. As he pulled out, dick sopping with lube and cum, he gave DW a final playful little swat on the rear. 

"Mmmm," Drake murmured happily, and let himself fall forward into the pillows. He didn't bother pulling his nightshirt down, and even in the dim light of the room it was very obvious his bottom had been through an ordeal: his adorable, chubby little ass cheeks were red and blushing from all the spanks and he had a thoroughly fucked little hole, from which cum was slowly dripping down the backs of his thighs. 

_God damn he looked hot_ , Launchpad thought, his cock already twitching at the erotic sight, even though they'd _just_ gotten done fucking. He pulled off his T-shirt and wiped himself down with it, then pulling up his boxers from around his knees and fixing them back into place, he laid down next to Drake.

"I can give ya a wipe-down too," he offered, and DW simply nodded sleepily. First cleaning off Drake's hand, and lifting him up a bit, wiping off the part of his belly where he'd come, Launchpad then gently mopped DW's backside, where most of the mess— _his_ mess, he thought, flushing—was. Once he had wiped it up, being careful to be as gentle as possible since he'd given that little bottom a _very_ thorough pummeling tonight and knew that it was now surely tender and sore, he tossed his now wet, semen-stained shirt over into their laundry hamper. He then laid back down on his side, facing his partner, and softly petted Drake's back, smoothing his soft nightshirt back down over his rear, which was much less wet and sticky now. He pulled the covers up and over them, carefully tucking them both in, nice and cozy.

"Mmmm, thanks, LP," Drake whispered, his voice still murky from their lovemaking. He promptly snuggled sweetly up to him, burying his face in Launchpad's chest. "I love you," he murmured, nuzzling under his neck. He seemed so small and fragile in these moments.

"I love you too, Drake," Launchpad said, and he bent down slightly to press several sweet kisses to the side of DW's face, then planted one on his lips, too.

"I, uhm, know you had a long day. S-sorry I kept you up," Drake then said shyly, in a voice so quiet Launchpad could only barely hear him.

But then he said in a much louder, arrogant tone, "That said, you should count it as a BLESSING to bed someone like _moi."_ Launchpad grinned at how he was blustering like always.

"Aw, gee, well, I _do_ think it's a blessin', DW, every time we make love," Launchpad said honestly, giving him another kiss. He could tell that his sincerity had startled DW, because he could now feel him blushing madly, the heat from his face warm against his pecs.

It then almost sounded like Drake was on the verge of tears when he whispered, voice wavering, into Launchpad's chest feathers.

"I think _you're_ the real blessing, LP." He then gently pulled Launchpad into a kiss so deep the pilot was left speechless and blushing, too.

With that the tender pair fell asleep—for real this time—in each other's arms. 


End file.
